


Tousle

by some_good_clean_fun



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Cybersex, Dirty Talk, Friends to Lovers, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sexual Fantasy, horny on anonymous
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-03 06:27:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24466432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/some_good_clean_fun/pseuds/some_good_clean_fun
Summary: Drew has a problem with an aspect of Danny’s appearance. It’s making it hard to concentrate whenever they chat.
Relationships: Danny Gonzalez/Drew Gooden
Comments: 9
Kudos: 104





	Tousle

Danny has that just-fucked look he’s started sporting more and more frequently when he answers Drew’s call, and honestly, Drew would like to lie and say he’s a man of great restraint, but staring at Danny and those unruly curls is twisting up his insides. Drew just wants to reach into the screen and drag his fingers through Danny’s light brown locks, scratch against his scalp and see how wild he can make him look after. He wants to give him the world’s most affectionate noogie. He wants to make Danny sweat so he can see those curls plastered against Danny’s forehead. 

It’s a big problem. Huge.

“Still no haircut?”

“I keep thinking I’ll accidentally give myself a reverse-Mohawk and have to pretend I’m playing the title role in a zoom edition of Dracula, so no.”

“It would be a look.”

“Sure. So would using a straightening iron and emulating your Fall Out Boy fanboy days, but I’m not gonna do that either.”

Danny sweeps his hair off his forehead and Drew can imagine that’s him, that he presses a soft kiss at the furrow-line between Danny’s brows before Danny’s hair springs right back into position. Drew smacks his lips together unconsciously. 

“I can’t believe that roast was so effective,” Danny says with a quizzical look. 

“I have a low smoke-point.”

“Now, we all know that’s not true.”

They chat for another couple of hours, before Drew gets so antsy it’s unbearable and beats a hasty retreat. 

That’s not the only thing he beats that day, jacking off from 3 PM onwards, imagining holding onto Danny’s hair as he receives a sloppy and enthusiastic blow-job.

*

He’s had inappropriately sexual thoughts about friends before, so it doesn’t concern him that Danny’s become his current favorite flavor of the month.

But Danny’s a handsome guy, so Drew doesn’t understand why it’s _this_ that’s awakened his id and not the thought of bright blue eyes looking up at him, or pink bite-plush lips wrapped around his cock, or strong-looking arms hooked around his thighs. These all feature in his fantasies pretty frequently now, but they didn’t spark this all-consuming fascination in him, and it’s confusing.

Drew isn’t mad about it, despite it destroying entire hours that could see him being more productive. He’s getting the most action he’s had in years, even though it’s just him, his dirty mind, and his hand. Sometimes he lets his other hand have a go, as a little treat. 

When Danny sends him a selfie with his strawberry plant, Drew is kind of ashamed by how it sends him right to his bed, but to be fair, Danny’s wearing a tank top and loose shorts, his hair is in complete disarray, and Drew is but a man. A horny, horny man. So he has no space for shame when he’s coming all over his fist imagining how soft Danny’s curls would be scrunched between his fingers as they fuck face to face. 

*

Drew imagines Danny riding him, curls bouncing wildly as he fucks himself over and over with Drew lying back and watching. He imagines Danny fucking into him, sweat dripping from the tip of one of his locks onto Drew’s forehead. He imagines guiding Danny exactly where he wants him as his dick gets choked down, holding on for dear life as his balls get tugged on one-by-one, coming all over Danny’s face and hair until there’s nothing left in him and he’s completely spent. Drew has never thought of himself as wildly creative before, needing time to conjure up an involved fantasy life, but Danny’s recent appearance has him visualizing all kinds of interesting positions. 

*

It has to be deliberate, by now. It must. Danny’s called him on four separate occasions looking disheveled in both the best and worst way. Drew’s gone through three tubes of lube and still gets close to chafing. He feels like a teenager again. But not, because teenage Drew was body conscious and low-key embarrassed every second he practised self-love and adult Drew is walking around his apartment half-naked and jacking it whenever the fuck he wants. 

You could be forgiven for thinking that Drew was purely into Danny for his aesthetic, since that has been the trigger, but lately he’s also been imagining them in the afterglow, chatting aimlessly, feeling more content than he has in years. He pictures them planning and filming together before spending the rest of the day lazing about the house. Learning how to cook and garden and be disgustingly domestic. 

It started with Drew compartmentalizing Danny into friend and sex object, but now he’s combined them again and it’s doing things to his entire nervous system. When he thinks about Danny in any context at all his heart races and his palms get sweaty. 

*

Danny calls him from bed one night, shirtless. Drew doesn’t know where to look. From Danny’s hair splayed recklessly across his forehead, to the sharp relief of his collarbones, to his half-closed eyes and pink, pink lips as he talks to Drew about an idea he has, Drew tries to drink it all in and nearly dies from overhydration. 

Apparently, Danny’s thinking about doing a new series on his channel, talking all about bizarre Illinois history, starting with the Max Headroom incident. Drew thinks it’s a good idea, when he has enough blood pumping around his brain to allow him to think about anything other than being next to Danny in that moment. 

Danny’s lips curve into a small smile and he raises an eyebrow. “But you don’t wanna talk about Youtube right now, do you?”

“Not really,” Drew confesses.

“Did you know, the barber closest to me has actually been open for two weeks?” Danny says, sounding faux-innocent and very amused. 

Drew narrows his eyes. “Why do I get the feeling this isn’t new news to you?”

“It’s not.”

“Oh my God, I knew it was deliberate. I knew you’d been sporting that fucked-out and sated look on purpose.”

“Yeah. Your eyes go dark, Drew. Your jaw tenses along with your shoulders and I know exactly what you’re thinking.”

“You fuckin’ tease.”

Danny bites his lower lip, cards his hand through his hair. He looks self-satisfied and unrestrained. Drew swallows thickly, trailing his hand down his chest to rest low on his belly. He’s sporting a semi and the urge to take hold and pull himself free is immense. 

“Anyway, goodnight,” Danny says, and exits the call. 

“What the fuck, Danny,” Drew breathes out loud. 

He takes himself in hand and it only takes ten quick strokes before he has to add yet another shirt and shorts to his laundry pile.

*

The next morning, Drew calls Danny. Danny clearly accepts the call from his computer rather than his phone and though the camera quality is worse, the lighting and range of vision are infinitely better. Danny’s more put-together, wearing a blue shirt with the sleeves folded up to show off his biceps, his glasses settled properly on the bridge of his nose, and his unruly hair styled so that you can still see the curls, but they’re artfully arranged. Drew just wants to mess him up. 

“You about to film?” Drew asks, trying not to sound disappointed, but feeling that way; crushingly so.

“Just finished,” Danny says, smiling mischievously. “What did you want?”

“Will you take off your shirt for me?” Drew asks, mouth dry.

He watches as Danny slowly, slowly undoes his buttons and pulls off his shirt, making it a show. Drew can picture himself nuzzling against Danny’s neck, brushing his fingers all over his torso, tweaking his nipples until Danny makes a high, breathy noise. 

“Next, the glasses.”

Danny slides his glasses off, places them on the desk. His eyes go a little bit hazy. He uses his other hand to slide down his chest, invitingly. 

“You know what I wanna see now,” Drew murmurs, voice gone scratchy because his throat feels so tight.

Danny shakes his head from side to side, bring his hands up and zig-zags them through his hair, fucking it up. He sits back in his chair, away from his camera, so Drew can see the whole length of him, shorts hanging loose on his hips, but still outlining the noticeable bulge of a hard-on. 

Drew wants to be there, mouthing at Danny through his shorts, his hands resting on Danny’s knees as he pushes them wider and makes space in the vee of his legs. He wants to trail kisses all over his skin and finally claim his mouth, deep and sweet. He wants to hold onto Danny and never let go. 

“T – take yourself in hand,” Drew orders next. He does the same thing himself, feeling how hard and hot he is already.

Danny arches in an exaggerated body roll as he cups his dick and Drew pictures him doing that with their bodies plastered together. 

“Is this what you’ve been dreaming about?” Danny asks, a little mocking, but also genuinely curious-sounding.

“Oh, this and more,” Drew admits. Is his voice lower than usual or is it his imagination? Danny rubs his thumb against the material of his shorts and Drew notices a wet patch forming. Drew takes another shaky breath. “You can slide the shorts off too, if you want.”

“I want what you want,” Danny says, and god, Drew had no idea Danny had this in him. He’s always seemed sweetly naïve before. 

Danny wriggles his shorts and underwear off and his dick springs free, slapping against his lower abdomen. It’s pretty as a dick can be, deep red to purpling at the tip, well-proportioned and already wet with precome. 

Drew’s mind draws a blank. He has absolutely no idea what to do next except watch, open-mouthed, as Danny stretches out with one hand fisted in his hair as his other strokes himself to full hardness and he begins to jack himself off. Drew’s so hard he aches with it, but he doesn’t have the co-ordination to tuck his own hand into his pants and emulate Danny’s actions. 

“Wish this was you,” Danny says, and it doesn’t sound fake, but it does sound pornographic. 

“I’d be blowing you by now,” Drew stutters out. “Taking as much as I can.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. I’d pull off and lick around the tip, spit to make it real wet and slide back on again, hollowing out my cheeks as I suck.”

“Fuuuuuck.”

Drew finally manages to get his brain into gear and start stroking himself off. He does it in time with Danny, who’s now thrusting up into his fist, his muscles tensing along his thighs, arms and chest, and his cheeks going a blotchy, becoming pink. Danny’s eyelashes flutter and Drew can tell he’s close, so he tries to take him over the top.

“I’d swallow you down deep,” Drew says, forcibly making his hand go looser as he slides up and down his own dick, imagining it was Danny’s. “You’d moan as you pumped your come all over my tongue.”

“Drew, I… jesus,” Danny groans as he squeezes his eyes shut. 

“After, I’d slide up your body and share a kiss, let you have a taste.”

Danny comes, whole body quivering for a moment, jetting over his stomach and torso. He peers at Drew through half-opened eyes as he brings his hand up and licks his fingers. He looks completely fucked out; lazy and messy and beautiful. 

Drew follows shortly after, coming so violently he bites his lower lip hard enough to draw blood.

“That was good. We should do it again some time,” Danny says as they clean up, casual like he’s talking about joining in on Kurtis’ quiz nights or collaborating on a video.

“Or, like, all the time,” Drew says, trying not to sound too eager, but suspecting he’s failing miserably. 

Danny gazes at him, calculating. He’s put on a t-shirt and new pair of boxer briefs. His glasses are halfway down his nose, and his hair? Perfectly imperfect.

“You don’t feel like your needs have been met?”

“I mean… I have many needs,” Drew says. “If you want it to be a sometimes deal, I can handle that, but if you’re interested in more, I’d give a very enthusiastic yes.”

“Huh.”

“What?”

Danny looks awkward now, wrong-footed. “I don’t know. I figured this was a one and done kinda thing.”

It could be that Danny wants it that way, but something about his posture and the tone of his voice has Drew thinking that isn’t the case. There’s a vulnerability to Danny that he’s usually really good at keeping under lock and key, but it’s creeping under the metaphorical door. 

“Danny, I think about you all the time. Not just sexually, but, like, us curled up together on the couch watching trashy tv, and planning out a relaxing vacation, and picking out china patterns, and all the cheesy shit couples do when they’re upsettingly into each other.”

“Well, I _am_ upsettingly into you,” Danny offers, lips quirking into a smile.

“Me too. Into you. You have no idea how much.”

“So tell me,” Danny says; an invitation, a challenge.

Drew does just that. 

*

Danny has that just-fucked look he’s started sporting more and more frequently when Drew wakes him up by licking a line over his shoulder and nuzzling into the nape of his neck. He rolls over and captures Drew in a kiss. 

“Your turn to make breakfast,” Danny murmurs. 

Drew gives him a noogie, pulls his head back softly with a grip in his hair to nibble at his jaw, his neck, his clavicle. “You’re all I feel like eating today.”

“Unfortunately for you I’m in need of sustenance. Someone drained me of all my energy and unless I get my requisite 100 almonds and other filling foods, I will be unable to participate in any kinds of activities you have planned.”

Drew grumbles as he gets up, but looking down at Danny splayed against his bed, bright-eyed and happy with his hair perfectly tousled makes him forget about any complaints.


End file.
